


Despite Every Effort

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-11
Updated: 2007-02-11
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: In a crowded bathroom, Mar'i and Lian try to wash away both undesirable hair color and the effects of bad parenting.  Neither effort is quite successful.





	Despite Every Effort

It's a Wednesday afternoon when Cheshire assassinates the president of the United States. As feats go, it's not quite as impressive as bombing an entire country, but it's severe enough to demand the Justice League's attention.

It gains Lian's attention as well.

It's the same Wednesday evening that Lian Harper locks herself and Mar'i in the bathroom of Uncle Roy's apartment with bag full of red hair dye.

The smell is positively putrid and is made worse both by the sharper senses Mar'i inherited from her mother and by the fact that they've gone through three bottles of the junk in order to wash Lian's hair free of her last resemblance to Cheshire.

It's not worked very well; Lian's hair is as stubborn as she is. All they've really managed to do is wash a lot of dye down the drain and dye Uncle Roy's sink.

Mar'i wonders if he'll be mad. Probably not - he and Lian get along far better than Mari and her father, and the way his jaw locks when Cheshire is mentioned is identical to the way Lian's does. Mar'i figures Uncle Roy will probably understand.

They make it through five bottles of hair dye - and Mar'i begins to worry at that point what Lian will look like bald - before they run out. By that time, Mar'i 's stomach is protesting along with her nose, and she's relieved as Lian wrings the last bit of reddish water out of her locks and into the drain.

Flipping her hair back, the excess water splatters across Mar'i 's nose, but Lian doesn't notice as she turns to her best friend and asks, "What do you think?"

"I think it looks like someone swallowed my father's costume and then vomited on the top of your head," Mar'i says, because it honestly is the nicest thing she can think of as a response. She doesn't add that all of their efforts didn't even bother to affect the end strands of Lian's hair, which are still pitch black.

Lian frowns at her before smacking the sink basin with her hand. Mar'i hears a crack, but she isn't sure if it's bone or porcelain.

"I was born with red hair," Lian mutters while removing a pair of scissors from the medicine cabinet. Mar'i wonders if she was born with red hair, too. More importantly, she wishes it was something she could ask her father without causing further. . .issues between them.

"I don't know why it had to change. I don't know why I ever had to look anything at all like _her_." Quick, angry snips accompany Lian's words, causing the darkest of her locks to fall to the bathroom floor.

Lian is as bad at cutting her hair as she is at dying it, so Mar'i takes the scissors from her. The older girl struggles, but Mar'i learned basic combat skills from her father, whose skills far exceeded anyone in Lian's life. Triumphant, Mar'i straightens up the ends as well as she can.

"Thanks," Lian says when she is finished.

"It's still not perfect," Mar'i answers, critically surveying her work. "But it'll do until you can convince someone to get it professionally done." If Mar'i 's mother had been around. . . but she isn't, so Mar'i refocuses on Lian's mother, who _is._

"Yeah. Maybe Aunt Dinah." Lian smiles sadly. "At the very least, I bet I con a wig out of her."

"I would _think_ so. We're going to have to rethink our costume plans, though. I don't think you want your costume to be the same color as your hair." Mar'i refers to their costumes as though they are actual pieces of clothing, not mere scribbled designs on a notepad underneath Lian's bed.

"Why not? Never stopped Dad."

When Lian speaks of her father, her voice is far lighter in tone than it has been all evening. Mar'i tries to ignore the fact that her own father doesn't instill similar jubilation. She'll think of that, later, perhaps. Right now, they have a bathroom to clean. There's a sink to scrub and hair to sweep up.

But Mar'i is certain that the foul smell isn't going to fade for a very, very long time.


End file.
